


Before They've Hatched

by mythomagicallydelicious



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Academy days, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Impromptu dancing, as far as I can tell, astrid does not actually speak but is spoken about and there, hard to write but they're kids and he's a master mage, hint of hint of trent being Off, how could they not, not explicit or overwhelmingly there tho, pre slash, they all hero worship trent ikithon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20835995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: Bren, Eodwulf, and Astrid are selected for advanced training under the tutelage of a grand mage. This is  Bren's perspective on their celebration and learning of their selection.





	Before They've Hatched

**Author's Note:**

> If anything in episode 79 contradicts this, sorry, I haven't watched it yet. But besides that, tried to do the sparse details of Eodwulf we've received justice. Wasn't expecting him to be described as so burly or hairy, but heaven knows I can work with that lol

Master Ikithon is famed to be reserved with his nods of approval, but when they are given it is as enchanting as any of the spells he calls to his fingertips. Bren waits with breath held after performing a complex series of signs and words and letting the magic flow through him to create, to hopefully impress. He looks straight ahead and counts the seconds as the spell expends itself, flowing through the air until it becomes vapor and wisps, until it disappears. He hears the rustling of cloth as hands withdraw from deep robes and Master Ikithon steps forward, circling Bren.

Bren looks up to meet the slate gray eyes, and sees a head crook slowly down at him. It is just slightly tilted, and the eyes are searching, narrowed. Bren resists the urge to swallow and discreetly tries to stand taller. He doesn’t like making eye contact for so long, but he knows it is expected of him. And he has to know if the Master approves.

“Well done, Bren. But there is always room for improvement.” Bren does not smile, but he feels his chin lift higher and he finally takes a breath, filled with validation from even the slightest of phrases from the Master.

“I will work harder in the future, Master Ikithon.” Bren says, already letting a portion of his mind wander into thinking about how he will study and perfect this spell. 

“I know you will.” Master Ikithon walks again, circling Bren slowly. Bren holds still and keeps his eyes forward, not following the movement. He was told the etiquette to follow for his practical testing, and he is determined to be the model pupil to such an important figure coming to test someone like him. A no-one, except for his knack for magic and his drive to follow and learn.

“I have spoken with the masters of these halls, Bren, and they all tell me of your dedication. Your drive. Your precision and skill. Those are all particular qualities the Empire looks for in its people. In their important people, at any rate.” 

Bren’s mind dismisses his ideas on perfecting the spell and focuses entirely on what Master Ikithon is saying. On the compliments being paid him. It is almost more than he could imagine, this rare treat to be spoken to with such interest from Master Ikithon. Master Ikithon, who’s portrait dominates such space in the Hall of Founders, who is spoken of in whispers in the dormitories, of the legends this human mage has sparked. It is an honor to be even  _ looked _ at by him. 

“I am convinced of your attention to detail, and your ability to learn. I believe that you could continue your studies at this school, and in time graduate and find a decent living. Or you could come with me for special, advanced training. This offer will only be made once. I select only those who have the potential to serve the highest office of the Empire with distinction. I have selected you. The final choice, however, is yours.”

Bren’s eyes are itching but he refuses to scratch them. He blinks, hardly believing what he is hearing. It is everything he has studied for, a chance to show his devotion to the Empire before all. And a chance to train with Master Ikithon. The words glow in his head and he feels his palms sweating. 

“I am honored by your confidence in me, Master Ikithon,” Bren says, bowing slightly. He stands straight and looks up to Master Ikithon’s eyes again. “I accept your offer for training, and if I may, I am excited at all I will learn for the glory of the Empire.”

Master Ikithon wears a smile that Bren has a hard time parsing out. It looks like it tries to be the smile of a parent encouraging a child, but not quite. It seems more like a smile worn by the men in the pub of Blumenthal, waiting and confident that the bets they put down in some game of chance will win out. As if they have an ace in the hole and are certain they will not lose. 

Bren hopes he will prove himself to Master Ikithon. That the decision made to select him will not go without proving himself worthy of such an appointment. 

Master Ikithon steps around him, behind him, and the shifting of cloth denotes that his hands have moved again. There is the feeling of minute pressure, of dry, bony hands being placed upon his shoulders. A faint tickle by his neck as long, perfectly straight hair falls forward as Master Ikithon bends to speak in his ear. 

“Welcome to the next part of your training, Bren. I expect perfection from you. Be packed and ready for your relocation by noon tomorrow. In the Square.” 

Bren nods, “ _ Ja, _ yes, Master Ikithon. I will be,” he says, barely remembering to speak in common as demanded by his teachers at the prospect. For just a moment, the hands tighten their grasp at his slip of the tongue, and then they withdraw entirely.

“See that you do. You’re dismissed.” 

Bren turns to face Master Ikithon, bowing deeply, arms at his sides, and then turns again to head back to his dormitory. His mind races even as he forces his body to retain its dignity, and not sprint and leap ahead. He  _ must _ show that he takes this appointment seriously. He must try to attain the poise Master Ikithon effortlessly portrays. 

But once he has turned a corner, he pumps his fist, just once, and races back to his room shared with Eodwulf.

Oh. Oh no. Eodwulf. Astrid. His friends… how will he tell him he is leaving? How will they feel as he moves on without them? He’ll send them letters, of course, like he sends to his mother and father, but…

He enters his room, and looks for Eodwulf. His friend is tying his knapsack off, checking the pockets. His entire side of the room is pristine for the first time since Bren has seen it. 

“Where are you going?” Bren asks, side-tracked from his own excitement at the sight.

Eodwulf turns and looks at him, and a flash of loss passes over his face. “Bren, oh, I have excellent news! But it is also sad, because I am leaving. I will not be at the academy anymore. I am sorry to leave you.”

“Well, that is excellent news, as I will not be here either. We will be leaving each other. Are you returning home?” Bren asks, not quite letting the idea that is taking shape in his mind loose yet. Better not to get his hopes up, just in case.

“No, not home. I have been selected for advanced training under Master Ikithon. He tested me earlier this morning and I passed! I am moving to his compound to learn more.” Eodwulf crosses the room, sitting on Bren’s bed beside him, leaning on one arm. “And you?” he asks, cocking his head, a small smile on his face.

Bren’s face answers the smile he sees with a quick glance up, though he does not meet Eodwulf’s eyes and he knows his friend takes no offense at his refusal of eye contact. “No, I have also been selected for advanced training by Master Ikithon. What are the odds, hm? That we should be so lucky as to be plucked as diamonds in the rough, to be able to attend this school, and now be personally seen to by Master Ikithon?” 

Eodwulf throws an arm around Bren’s shoulders, crashing them together in a hug. “Oh! The odds are astronomical, and yet we beat them again. I was worried, before you came in, but now I feel it in my bones that Astrid has also been chosen. How can she not? We are equals in almost every field we have been tutored in.” Eodwulf must feel the way he shifts in the contact, the slight discomfort, because he backs off again, laying flat on Bren’s bed. A slight fit of laughter rumbles through Eodwulf’s chest and erupts from his mouth. Bren shares in the light, giddy feeling as he answers in a quiet voice.

“You’re right. Astrid must be going through her testing now. It is good that we will be together in this,  _ ja _ ? That we three have proven ourselves again and again in our studying here, and that we will prove ourselves in our next training?”

“Not to count our chickens before they hatch--” Eodwulf starts.

“Nor to imagine how delicious the eggs--” Bren continues, allowing small  _ ha _ , to pass his lips as he does so. Knowing it is a sign of their years of friendship. Eodwulf finishes the third part in Astrid’s absence.

“But how fortuitous these chickens are for us.” Eodwulf laughs again. “That we should be so lucky.”

“We are determined, and lucky that we are friends and will do this together.”

Eodwulf suddenly sits up, taller than Bren even when they sit, and leans over him, blue eyes and close-cropped hair and a slightly crooked nose filling his vision. “Bren, no matter what, we have each other’s backs,  _ ja _ ? The other students have teased us and have grown jealous of our skill, but we will never be like that, okay? No matter how much we study or learn, we will never let the competition divide us?”

Bren stares at Eodwulf’s broad chest for a moment, thinking. Then he glances up, meeting his eyes. He knows it is reassuring to meet someone’s eyes when they ask you a question. He smiles with his whole face, a rare occurrence, and reaches with one hand to hover and land over where Eodwulf’s is holding his weight on the bed. His hand is large and calloused, and warm.

“No matter what, our friendship will never break. No question. We three will be together, and that has always proven to be a point of our strength.” Bren squeezes Eodwulf’s hand, and Eodwulf smiles at him. 

“Of course. Of course, yes,” Eodwulf says, nodding. He swoops in and pecks Bren on the forehead, leaving his friend blinking, unexpecting of the gesture. A slight blush spreads across his cheeks as his friend continues speaking.

“A peck for luck, for the lucky chickens to be roosting in such a prestigious place. Noon tomorrow, Bren! And leaving home, working so hard, will be rewarded.” Eodwulf bounds off the bed, pulling Bren with him, swirling him around in a circle. Bren allows himself to be pulled, still a little dazed, though more used to the impromptu dance Eodwulf spins them in.

“We will be the best wizards the Empire has ever seen!” Eodwulf shouts as they spin, his strong arms holding Bren steady.

“Eodwulf, I must pack! And then we can pester Astrid and ask for details of her test, and take our last meal of the Academy. I am sure we can get a letter written and sent in the morning, to tell news of home. Our parents will be so proud.” Bren smiles to himself, withdrawing from Eodwulf as he thinks through his plans for the next day. He begins collecting items and arranging them exactly within his own pack. 

“Okay, okay. You pack. I need to study more on my technique anyway. There is always room for improvement.”

Bren nods, the echo of the sentiment from Master Ikithon is also in his head, reminding him to add  _ studying _ onto his mental list for the next twenty-four hours. 

Later over dinner, the three put their heads together and celebrate the news of their selection, of them ahead of the other students, of their way being clear going forward. Of how proud their parents will be upon the delivery of their letters. 

Astrid sneaks over to their dorm and the three stay up late, talking and laughing and planning out how they will be. Prestigious, grand, head and shoulders towering above the general populace. Trained mages with incredible power. How they will be unbreakable, together. How excited they were for whatever came next, under the legendary figure of Master Ikithon.

They lay three squeezed into the bed, eventually exhausted, tucking a head under a shoulder and arms slung over hips to cuddle in together as they have done since their youth. Even Bren, who is generally not a fan of such close touch, is comfortable as they lay together. Three chickens comfortable in their roost. 

Unaware that tomorrow they would be entering a fox’s den.

**Author's Note:**

> I have recently become enthralled with the idea of Bren and Eodwulf also having a bit of a romantic side of their relationship. Not the same that Caleb insinuates about him and Astrid, but that they were very close and maybe their relationship would be closer to Queer Platonic Partners. But I love the idea of the three of them being so close, closer than friends, and I wanted a fic specifically for the guys to shine through.
> 
> You know the drill, let me know if I missed a tag.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments appreciated :D


End file.
